Regulation Sixty-Eight
Posted on October 14th, 2015 by T'Lira and Kymar Dremel

Joint Log with CMO Kymar Dremel (Stardate 11510.07)

Spinning the PADD idly after reviewing the notes on it, Dremel sat behind his desk in the tiny broom closet they called an office on this ship and waited. Shouting at Tyler hadn’t sat well with him, the kid hadn’t been taking the shot for the last few decades like the rest of the senior crew, but there were certain things that Medical personnel should know better. Perhaps he was holding Slade to a higher standard than the other people in the Atlantis’ medical department, but he had potential – he just needed a guiding hand, firm or otherwise. T’Lira on the other hand…

So he sat and waited, watching the door.

T’Lira walked into the rather small Sickbay and went straight to the CMO’s office, pressing the chime once. Already, she was coming up with responses that she felt were suitable for the inevitable questions.

“Come.” Dremel’s voice rang out through the door, noting the slightly harsh tone, and modulated it as the Lieutenant walked in.

“Take a seat, Lieutenant.”

With some slight hesitation, she sat down in the offered chair and waited.

He watched her for a moment, wondering if he should take the same route that he had for Slade. Placing the PADD down with a click he leaned forward slightly instead.

“I take it that you haven’t told the Admiral, yet?”

Somehow, she knew that would come up. It just seemed inevitable. So, it was an obvious response.

“No. Tyler and I plan to inform him after this simulation, or test, if that is what it is being called.”

The Doctor watched her blankly.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that, typically, he should have been informed beforehand. You were the last person I expected to be in this situation, honestly, but Vulcan or not we all make mistakes.”

That seemed rather amusing to her. And is that was this was? A mistake? Most certainly not.

“I did not know beforehand, therefore I could not inform him at such a time. We have chosen to inform him after this test so that there is no distraction in achieving what is obviously the lofty goal of outwitting the entirety of Starfleet. And while you may see this as a mistake, I do not.”

Leaning back in his chair, his expression dropping slightly in disappointment, he rattled off dryly as if by rote.

“Regulation sixty-eight, section four. All crew serving onboard Starfleet vessels, without exception, are to report to Sickbay once per month to be administered the contraceptive shot. This may only be waived with authorisation from the vessel’s commanding officer, supplemented by the Chief Medical Officer. I see no such authorisation in your records, Lieutenant, and I saw none in Ensign Slade’s, and there is your ‘mistake’. The fact that you both missed your shots, then overcame the genetic hurdles in becoming pregnant with a Vulcan mother and Human father, in such a short amount of time is – frankly – astonishing. You can do the math, I’m sure.”

Dremel leaned forward again, wishing this could be going better. But then…Vulcan. Although he felt somewhat like a father berating his children.

“I don’t think you realise how much trouble this causes, Lieutenant, the reason that we have these regulations in the first place – for all of its Scientific endeavours, Starfleet is a military organisation first. Ensign Slade is a Doctor, he should have known better, and I had thought that you might be at least somewhat chastised by the situation you’ve put yourself in – but I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

Dremel watched her quietly for a moment. “The question now, is, what’re you going to do about it?”

It took a moment of thought, but she found the answer she was looking for.

“To be quite honest, I do know exactly what this situation entails, and what will likely occur in the near future. However, I believe that the best thing to do is, as humans say, to take it one step at a time. Despite my lack of suitable regret in your opinion, I am aware of my slip in forgetting to visit Sickbay for the monthly shot, but there has been a war on, and that can distract people, with the relief of surviving past the battle at hand. I will admit that I erred in forgetting the shot, but that is all I will admit in this case.”

With that said, she leaned slightly back in the seat and waited for what would come next.

Dremel simply nodded, his voice quiet.

“Logically, the best course of action in order to continue with your current duties would be to terminate the pregnancy. Obviously that’s a decision for you and Tyler to make together, and I will leave it in your hands. However…if you wish to carry the child to term, I would suggest that you speak to Admiral Blackthorne first and find out just how he wants to handle the situation.”

He could tell in the way she sat that termination wasn’t going to be on the cards, logical or not. The older Bajoran’s visage softened briefly, weariness evident around his eyes. “I don’t think you quite realise what you’re in for, T’Lira. Carrying a child is no small feat, and on a military vessel you can magnify that ten-fold….Whatever your decision, I want you to report to Sickbay once we’ve returned to the Atlantis.”

T’Lira offered a slight nod.

“I will discuss this with Tyler at the earliest possible chance. I do wish to offer a reminder that the Atlantis is a Sovereign-class vessel, a class that was designed to accommodate families, although Starfleet has shifted that directive in past years.”

Dremel waved a hand slightly.

“Families, not pregnancies, and not pregnant officers. There’s a difference. On a station, on a planet, the environment can be controlled, monitored, things can be put the way they need to be. Out here, we don’t have that luxury, and if you do decide to go through with this pregnancy – assuming the Admiral allows you to remain onboard for your term – I will be putting you on light duties and restricting you entirely from away team missions and extra-vehicular activities. That baby’s health becomes my responsibility, and you’re the environment I have to control.”

She nodded.

“And at such time, it would only be logical to comply with medical directives. Although… I would miss piloting a fighter for that time.”

For the first time, a brief smile ghosted across the Doctor’s lips. “Welcome to the world of parenting; there’s going to be so much more you can no longer do.”

She lifted a single eyebrow.

“Of that, I am more than aware.”

Dremel’s gruff exterior lifted back up and he nodded.

“Good. Dismissed, Lieutenant, you have until tomorrow to speak with the Admiral – the sooner he knows, regardless of what’s currently going on, the better. We don’t want to pass through a Nebula that goes and irradiates your child to death before it’s even had a chance to work out those eyebrow muscles. Tyler’s in the cargo bay working off some steam.”

T’Lira almost argued. Almost. Yes, a discussion certainly needed to happen. With a slight nod, she stood and left, mulling over a few thoughts.